


The Heart Knows

by ritsuko



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Chess, Denial, Foreplay, Longing, M/M, Mind Meld, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3290060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/pseuds/ritsuko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim knows exactly what he wants, but Spock Prime thinks that the younger man is seriously mistaken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the Spock Prime Big Bang in 2014, but I moved and didn't get it finished. I'll post chapters of it pretty regular, since I have them mostly written.

"This is highly inappropriate, Jim." The Vulcan admonished him, and the younger man just grinned wider. His foot crept higher up the man's leg, caressing lightly under the table, inching ever so close to what lay between.

Jim grinned as he felt the the older man's tense under his ministrations. If flirting were considered an art form, the blonde could be the next DaVinci, or Michaelangelo. Innocently, the blue eyed man batted his eyes and fingered a pawn on the chessboard between them. "Why, Ambassador Spock, I have no idea what you're talking about. This is just a friendly game. . . isn't it?"

It was easy to read all of the younger man's cues, the way he licked his plush lips, the way his crystal eyes sparkled, the ever encroaching foot nearing his groin. There had been a time in his youth when such advances would have made him uncomfortable or dare he say embarrassed, but after so many years alone he welcomed them with little shame. 

The Vulcan looked pointedly at the Captain's fingertip stroking the pawn and allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk up. "I am sure you do not. Such an obvious attempt to distract me from your next move. But you will find, I have several unplayed moves of my own."

With that, he grabbed the young man's foot in one hand and softly brushed his fingertips against the sock covered arch. What would have been squirming laughter in the man that he had once called _t'hy'la_ was an explosive peal of giggles in the younger. Jim tried to pull his foot back, but the Vulcan held fast, eyes analyzing that reddening face so fully enraptured in such a base feeling as ticklishness.

"Augh, stop it!" Jim squealed through laughter, trying to capture his breath as the older man continued with featherlight touches. The sound was hypnotic, every sound that had ever come out of his captain's mouth always had been.

"I am not quite sure you have learned your lesson when it comes to roaming appendages and another's personal boundaries." Spock stated mildly, but relented, letting the foot go. Jim leaned back, gasping for air and managing to hiccup at the same time. A couple of tears had streaked down his face, which Spock quelled the urge to brush away with his thumb. He had always found tears fascinating. Tears could cover so many emotions, yet he could count the times he had personally shed any on one hand. 

Jim's breathing evened out and he mock pouted, bottom lip jutting out tantalizingly. "You're no fun."

"On the contrary, I thought you considered chess with me quite pleasurable." Spock retorted, and the captain rolled his eyes. 

"You know what I mean." He frowned and the Vulcan repressed a chuckle. This Jim Kirk was just as forward and flirtatious as his own had been, and knew exactly how to play the older man into getting what he wanted. 

But was it the destiny that he deserved? The ambassador had spent years with his bondmate until his Captain had been blown into the Nexus, unattainable and leaving him with a loneliness that still felt like an old scar, jagged and improperly healed. This Jim, while not being his own, was like a salve that slowly was allowing his heart to beat strongly again, to give him a new purpose. 

There were so many things that were wrong, that shouldn't be. If this young Jim was to be all he could, his future did not lie with an old man. Just his presence kept his younger counterpart and the captain from forming any sort of bond, if that was the choice that they were to make. But in this time, the commander was in a relationship with Lt. Uhura, and for some reason, Jim had been avidly pursuing the older Vulcan since the Nero incident. He couldn't fault the younger man on his determination. 

The intent in those azure eyes was obvious, even if Spock was sure that the younger man didn't understand the ramifications. Suppressing a sigh, the Vulcan eyed the chessboard. "Your move."

"I never thought that Vulcans could be such fucking teases before I met you." Jim grumbled, pushing forward his knight in a reckless move. "I should have held you to strip chess."

Spock gave a wry smile, moving his bishop out of the knight's way. "I am quite sure that you would not have enjoyed the outcome of a game like that."

"I am quite sure that I would have." Kirk demanded, voice laced with something akin to arousal. It only confused the ambassador more, that of all the people that this Jim could be with, he would choose an old man. 

"On what basis do you make this assumption?" The Vulcan queried, watching the blonde's face as he studied the board, distraction evident on his face.

When those bottomless blue eyes shot up , gazing deep into his own, Spock's heart skipped a beat. Something inside him lurched, a small connection fired off, one that could not possibly exist anymore, not in this time, not with this man. His throat went dry as the young man in front of him smiled, a familiar quirk of the lip, eyes inviting. So similar, but like a skewed photograph that someone had recolored.

"Because you're fucking hot." The younger man proclaimed, and the Vulcan arched an eyebrow. Crude language aside, it was still hard to believe.

"I am not sure of what you mean by that statement." He uttered, feigning ignorance, looking away from the snare of those eyes. Jim snorted in irritation. 

"You must think you're so damn cute. You know what I mean, Spock. There's no way you could have lived in another dimension with another me and not know. But I'll spell it out if you're going to be like that." Kirk rose from his chair and started to slink around the table. "You're attractive. Handsome. Sexy. You get me all hot and bothered and sit there and act like you don't feel it too. It's ridiculous." Jim placed a hand on his shoulder and the older man could feel a flush start to creep across his cheeks. "Since I met you, since we melded, I knew. I want you." Jim sat on the edge of the table, hand tracing higher on the Vulcan's neck until he was cupping his cheek. The air in the room was suddenly hot, far hotter than Vulcan had ever been. He could see the inches between them diminishing as full pink lips journeyed towards his own.

Spock swallowed, struggling to say something, anything to make the other man realize how illogical these feelings were, that if he wanted anyone, it should be his younger counterpart. But no words came.

Just a simple sweetness as soft lips brushed over his own. A lump formed in his throat, his body tensing in a rush of need. It had been so, so long.

When the older man didn't move, Jim took it as an invitation, tongue darting out to lick against the crease of the Vulcan's lips. He found little resistance, but the warm inviting taste of cinnamon and vanilla, Spock's favorite Terran tea. Jim lapped at the other man's mouth, eliciting a shudder as he stroked Spock's cheek, tracing the etch marks of age, before stroking one pointed ear. 

The Vulcan made a strangled noise, pulling away. "Jim."

"Spock." Jim teased, lazily caressing the tip of his ear, watching in amusement as it started to flush a darker green than the man's cheeks. "You like?"

The Vulcan tried to keep himself from coming undone just at the sultry tone in the captain's voice. He tried to speak, voice cracking in his throat, before swallowing and attempting his words again. "Jim. . . You are. . . confused."

Immediately, he wished he hadn't said the words. The crestfallen look on Jim's face was almost too much to bear. Just as quickly, it was replaced with a look of irritation and determination. He knew that look well enough.

"No, Spock, I've never been more sure of anything in my life." His hand dropped to thread through the other man's fingers; soft, warm and electric. Bue to the meld, the intimacy of the gesture was not lost on the human. Those bottomless eyes remained locked on his as the captain pushed away from the table, coming closer to the Vulcan, bodies only centimeters apart-

The klaxon warning sounded abruptly, and they both blinked in shock.

Fingers left his, eyes turned from aroused heat to cold steel.

Then, Jim Kirk was gone, fleeing to the bridge to make sure that his first love was okay. 

Spock let out a breath he hadn't realized that he had been holding in. It took a moment to compose himself, before pushing up from the chair. His steps were slow, but then hastened from the rec room to the quarters he had been assigned for this journey. Longingly, he glanced at the turbolift as he passed, unsure if he wanted to be where the action was, or the captain. He managed to place one foot in front of the other until he was back to his room, and only when the doors closed behind him did he allow himself to sag against them. 

His body hummed with pent up energy, arousal and need. All from just a few simple touches. Spock frowned at the hardness between his legs, willing it to lessen, but it ached.

He ached. Had the warning not sounded-

No.

With shaking steps he went to his luggage, retrieving his soft robe and some incense sticks for meditation. It was unbearable, the feel of his clothes sliding off his body, over sensitive nipples and his yearning cock. With grit teeth, he ignored the sensations. He almost didn't put his robe on, fearful that the friction of the fabric against himself might cause him to come undone. A brief look at his aged body in the mirror next to him only strengthened his resolve.

Truly, there was nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone who aged had wrinkles, sagging skin. But thinking of himself next to Jim. . . Jim deserved someone fresh and new, not an old man. As the robe slipped over his head, some of the heat retreated, blessing him with steady hands as he lit his incense, and moved on to the candles on the desk. Readying himself into position on the soft carpet, he blocked out crystal blue eyes, and a prefect grin. Hands upon his cheeks and soft kisses.

His own _t'hy'la_ was gone. Despite there being another who matched him in this universe, he could not have him.

Spock evened his breathing, in and out, feeling his body start to relax. _He is not mine._ Spock focused on the one statement that always helped him. _Kaiidth_.

What is, is.


	2. Chapter 2

He was still deep in meditation hours later when the bell to his quarters chimes. Slowly he allowed his eyes to open, taking in the dim glow of the room. The candles had burned down halfway, a good six hours since he started meditating.

The door chimes again. Spock licked his dry lips, but didn't answer, still and waiting. It was deceptive, but perhaps he would be left alone if the man outside thought he was asleep.

Three more chimes. Finally, "Ambassador? Are you awake in there?" Jim's voice was tired, no doubt from whatever he had to deal with on the bridge, but there was also a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

The Vulcan bit his lip thoughtfully as he mulled over his options. The carnal hunger inside of him had been quelled for the time being. But with Kirk, that could all change in a matter of seconds.

"Ambassador, please. . . I. . . Spock." The captain's voice sounded a little shameful, worried. Sad. "Can we please talk, Spock?"

Pain shot up his leg, and the Vulcan was surprised to see how hard his white knuckled hand was gripping it through the fabric. Soundlessly, he released it. He let several moments of silence pass. Finally, the dejected captain sighed. "I'll be in my quarters. Please, Spock." There was a desperate pang in the young man's voice, "Please come talk to me."

Then he was gone.

The ambassador sighed, staring at his trembling hand, and wasn't surprised by the moisture on his face.

Only Jim Kirk could bring him to such emotion.

Only Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter, but the next will be much longer!


	3. Chapter 3

Two days later had brought on an onslaught of bells, knocking, chimes and pleading demands from the captain. He used everything but force to try to get the older man to talk to him. But Spock could not trust himself not to turn the outcome into his own favor. He had been through too many years alone, too many pon farrs without the touch of his t'hy'la, too many breaths of air with a severed connection that could easily be repaired with someone so similar. 

It would be unfair to this Jim Kirk, claiming him as his own, when the young man already had a much younger, much more virile version of himself. 

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. It was also unfair to the memory of his Jim, his t'hy'la for so many years. As if such a bond could be so easily replaced. He was a man displaced in space and time, he should be thankful to be alive, to be able to help nurture his people on a new world, to help guide a young Starfleet without abusing the ability.

It was not the most realistic way for him to combat the problem, but at the moment, it was the most logical. His appearance in this timeline had to be treated as highly as the non-interference mandates of Starfleet. In order to ensure a future which had the most possibilities, he had to remain neutral, tell no one what to do, and merely give suggestions. There was no room for relationships.

Spock rose to his feet, bones barely creaking. Despite the years, he had remained in good health. Yet when he arose and caught his reflection, his breath hitched.

When had he grown so old? It seemed like just yesterday he was serving on the bridge, second in command, long before becoming an ambassador to Romulans, or attaining the rank of captain himself. Back when he had explored the galaxy and beyond with his t'hy'la, before both could understand the bond in their hearts. Back when the most unrealistic scenarios had developed in their adventures: godlike creatures that had toyed with them, sentient machines, pinstripe suits, and parasitic beings. All of these things they had overcome, and he in a much younger visage.

Spock had always been a striking man, face made up of sharp angles and a slight bluish tinge on his eyelids; tall and lithe. He was still all of those things, only now, his skin was droopier, craggier. On one mission, remembered they had all aged due to the effects of the planet they had beamed down upon. Whereas his Vulcan blood had prolonged his youth, he had watched the majority of his crew members wither in age. Jim had been so loathsome, self conscious of the older face he has seen in the mirror. Age hadn't mattered to Spock. Jim was still his Jim, old or not.

He allowed himself a sigh. It seemed the reverse didn't work quite so easily for him. Just thinking of this younger Jim made him. . . slightly self conscious as he gazed in the mirror. What about him was so attractive to the younger man? Silver hair, an aged lined face. . . he was sure the only reason was the emotional transference that had passed through the meld. 

A soft knock came through the door. It was too precise and militant to be Jim. Too many days of hiding away in his room, of not knowing the happenings of the ship, although he could guess at the close proximity of his destination.

After so many years, firm Vulcan teachings had eroded away for a companionship and family that he yearned for. 

A family that was gone.

"Come in." He called, moving to stand in front of the door with his hands clasped behind his back. Familiar science blue greeted him. "Mr. Spock." His heart twinged at just how like him his younger counterpart was, and just how different. So much turmoil lay under the commander's features, neutrally set and yet so guarded. It pained him to know that he had ever been so reserved despite his upbringing, and yet even by human standards, he still was. 

Spock stepped into the room, adjusting to the higher gravity and heat reminiscent of their homeworld that the area was set at easily. "Mr. Spock, are you well?"

The older man arched an eyebrow. "Of course." Not a lie. "Have I done anything to indicate otherwise?"

Undeterred, the younger man pressed on. "You have not left your quarters for several days, and the Captain has been worrying. I have told him that you should not be bothered unless you seek interaction, but he has become. . . determined. . . that someone make sure that you are well."

The older man turned before the younger could see the slight twitch his mouth gave. "Would you care for a cup of tea?" He inquired, reaching for the kettle and another mug.

"If you are inviting me, I would be honored to accept." the younger man answered, stepping forward.

"No need for manners. I take it you enjoy the puerh?" The elder asks, knowing fully well that he needn't.

"It would be most logical to assume so. It seems we share a great many interests." The commander stated, voice clipped, so uptight. Had he himself ever been so rigid?

Of course he had.

"Please, sit." The younger man complied, seating himself opposite the other man, table between them. The elder poured the tea, but still allowed the other man the courtesy of adding sugar or cream to it. He did neither. Spock knew he wouldn't.

There was a moment of silence, the ambassador bringing the cup to his lips, and inhaling the rich aroma. His gesture was mirrored, and when they both took a drink, it seemed like a strange pantomime. 

The younger man set his cup down first. "You are quite skilled at eluding a question." He informed, still at attention, still reserved. The older man allowed himself a small chuckle. 

"Am I? I suppose years of questions where the answers are inconsequential make subjects like 'if I am well or not' quite trivial. I am well. Just. . . absorbed in other tasks." _Like staying away from Jim Kirk._ The older man didn't add, but took another drink of his tea, welcoming the slight burn in his mouth.

Spock eyes him over his cup, analyzing. He's seen that look on his own face a million times, in the old days it would have been accompanied by an eye roll from the doctor, or hazel eyes inquiring his thoughts, honestly curious.

His heart twinges. 

Something must show on his face, despite everything. Or maybe it's just that his double knows what to look for. The younger man's eyebrow twinges, but he takes another drink of tea. Despite the companionable silence that stretches, the ambassador knows that the question is coming. Exactly as he would say it.

_"What is the Captain to you?"_

"The Captain is enamored of you." 

Spock blinks back his slight surprise at the younger man's words. Not exactly what he thought would be stated, but close. Bringing the cup to his own lips he searches the other man's face. "I have noticed."

"One would have to be a fool not to." It feels like an insult, like the younger man is attacking him with the information, but there is no latent malice in the other man that he can sense. Although there is the chance that he is shielding it. What would he himself do under the same situation? With an older double that his Captain, his intended, was infatuated with? 

"Is there a reason for your concern?" He asks glibly, and the commander watches him with consideration. "I assume that your Captain is much like mine was. Brash. Impulsive. Passionate." Each word pulls at his heart, just remembering painful and uplifting at the same time. Just the words are enough to invoke so many memories. Hushed words. Soft touches. Sweaty chests and all encompassing gazes. His bondmate.

". . . are you alright, Ambassador?" Spock blinks his eyes open, startled to realize that he has been lost in nostalgia for who knows how many minutes. The other man stares at him, expression indiscernible. He shrugs.

"Yes, of course. Just remembering." The older man smiles slightly, as embarrassing an act as it is. Seeing as he is smiling at himself, he takes the chance. The commander pays it no mind.

Instead he presses on. "Was he your partner?"

"We worked together many years. . ."

"Please do not try to derail me further. You know precisely what I mean. Was he your _t'hy'la_?"

The older man grips the teacup hard enough to almost shatter it. "Where would you come up with that idea?"

With a huff of annoyance, the younger Spock forgets formality. "Because Jim asked me what the word mean. In detail. It is safe to assume that he learned the word from you, as I have never once uttered it to him, and there are no other Vulcans that he converses with on a daily basis. Or at least, that he used to."

The older man starts to pour himself more tea, partly to warm his cup, mostly to mull over the other man's words. His hands barely shake, but he knows that Spock sees the slight tremble. 

"He has become increasingly interested in Vulcan traditions and ideologies and asks questions frequently. About katras, fal-tor-pan. Mount Seleya. Khalifee, and the Pon Farr." The commander fixes him a look. "And of bondmates."

The other man's mouth goes slack and dry. His counterpart has definitely read much into the situation, but that is to be expected, if the Jim of this time is as naturally inquisitive as he is in this time. He knows he is as tenacious, and unable to take no for an answer. 

Spock sighs, staring down at his tea mug, a slight frown playing across his features as the younger man watches him. There will be no holding back the information after all many questions about them.

"When I first met your Jim." The younger man raises an eyebrow when he says 'your', but he doesn't let it deter him. "There was no time to explain. I needed to let him know my story as quickly as possible. Had I not, Nero would have succeeded in destroying Earth. The situation forced me to meld with him, to show him where I was from and what was Nero's true goal. Unfortunately. . . " He paused, sighed and thought back to that time.

The young man's bright blue eyes widened in shock under the splay of aged fingers. So much information. Had he sent to much? Had he latently been too joyful to see Jim Kirk alive and well in another time, another universe?

Had Jim felt the complete soul consuming fire that Spock felt for him? His utter devotion and adoration, the love that still brimmed over in their severed bond?

Had he seen the missions? All the times they had been in peril and one had tried to sacrifice himself for the good of the ship only to have the other come to his rescue? How the Vulcan had tried to purge himself of all emotions for the human through the rite of Kolinahr, only to discover he could no more rid himself of the emotions than he could stop breathing and survivez? How he would follow his captain from planet to planet, across the reaches of space, loyalty never wavering. A man he would die for. 

A man he had died for.

A man he had shared so much time with and yet so foolishly spent so little with as his bondmate. Less time than he had thought they would spend together with gentle touches and lingering kisses, breakfast in bed and playful teasing. McCoy had once made a huge display of how much he wanted to vomit being in a room with them when they were 'making goo goo eyes' at each other, not that Spock had thought that a technically correct term for the way that he and his _t'hy'la_ had looked at each other, hazel and chocolate eyes meeting with an electric intensity.

That hazel gaze, that stoked the embers of anticipation in his belly every time they were in the same room. 

Those crystalline bottomless blue eyes that shot through to his core like lightning, so different, and yet so the same.

Had Jim felt the love? The pure, unconditional bond and now his own body, though from another time and dimension, craved that contact?

"You believe that some of your emotions transferred to him." The younger Spock stated, and the other man snapped out of his troubled reverie, considering.

Finally he nodded. "Yes, that is what is most likely ailing the Captain." 

"It is a problem. He is starting to lose focus in his daily tasks."

"It was never my intention to put him through such tribulations. If there was a way that I could take it away I would. But I cannot rescind my actions, nor would I desire to, since one planet was saved. I do apologize for the inconvenience that I have placed on you and your crew."

Spock's face remained neutral, but it was obvious that he was losing patience. "I am grateful that Earth was saved, as well as the billions of lives that were not lost that day as they were on our planet. But this is not my problem. My Captain is suffering in his tasks, because of your meld. Can you honestly say that you have no feelings for him, as you did for the Kirk of your time?"

The elder man watched his younger counterpart's face for a long while, considering. It would be so easy to admit it, to give in to his feelings for the man who was a shade of his love. No, not a shade, a just another facet of a bright glittering jewel that represented all possible James Tiberius Kirks. 

He'd seen one before, a dark version from an Empire with hate and conquest in his heart, who would rather grant misery upon the galaxies than his compassion. Spock had felt no love for that man, whose being had been riddled with complex passions of a darker sort.

But this young Jim, so full of light and optimism, despite the circumstances that he himself had put the boy in: a different life, a disrupted history with no father, and a family riddled with the holes of loss, he was much closer to his own, but still different.

It was shameful to think of him in a way that was only reserved for his true bond mate.

"Feelings have no place in this argument. There is someone much better for him than an old man."

The commander tilted his head, a sardonic smile splaying across his lips. "And who would that be?" There was a pause, the ambassador unwilling to let the words tumble from his mouth. The younger man took another drink of his tea and shook his head. "If you are of the inclination that I have an interest in the Captain, you are seriously mistaken. While he is my friend, I have no intentions of becoming more than that."

The elder raised an eyebrow at him, and the other man mirrored the movement. "You are sure? Surely you cannot deny the possibility the the two of you might be something more-"

"I have come to my conclusion based on several factors." The commander stated, chocolate eyes boring into his own. "The first is that I am the second in command of this ship, and he is the Captain. Logically, this it would be incredibly foolish to allow myself to feel anything more than a friendship or kinship with Jim. Honestly, I do not know how you were able to word around Starfleet regulations so you were not in trouble with the fraternization rules."

Through a sharp chuckle, the older man eyed him. "A five year mission is a long time for humans. We became like a family. And let's just say that my Jim was a lot more discreet."

"Secondly, I do not feel these emotions that you have for him. I am currently and have been dating Nyota for longer than I have even known him, and I am quite content with our relationship staying as is."

"And you believe that she is the one for you?"

Spock eyed him, a glint of irritation sparking in the dark depths. "Would it be logical to continue to stay with her if I thought otherwise? Not only would it harm our work relationship on the Enterprise, but one does not willingly put themselves in the way of Nyota Uhura's wrath."

The older man could only nod, a slight smile curling at his lip. The Nyota of his time hard always been a sharp, passionate and quick witted lioness of a woman, truly a force to be reckoned with. In some ways, he thought that perhaps his younger self had a more difficult relationship with the beautiful and fierce young woman, who no doubt would not put up with his strictest Vulcanisms.

"Lastly," the younger man continued, " I have seen the way that he looks at you. The way his eyes lose focus as it is obvious he becomes lost in thought about you. He is enamored. I often saw the same look on mother's face when she thought about father." There is a slight sting in the air, both men remembering a mother lost, one through fingertips, and the other twice over. "This is a first hand case of why a meld should only be done with consent."

Spock closed his eyes, cowed by the commander's words. "I know." He stated softly. "There was no time. I know that I am at fault. Jim's affliction wasn't something that I wished to encumber him with. Anything you wish me to do, I will try. I will go before the council and confess my crime. I just do not know that I can reverse the feelings that I have pushed upon him."

By the time he opened his eyes again, the younger man had steepled his hands in front of his face, watching him with a speculative gaze. "What good would it do anyone for you to be charged of a crime you did not commit? While there was obviously an emotional transference, you did not go into his mind with the goal of making him care for you. You merely showed him everything that you could about the situation at hand. You did not invade his mind to extract information, nor did you give him the idea that he should be emotionally attached to you. He saw your memories, and felt the warmth that you felt for your own t'hy'la, and came to the conclusion of caring about you on his own."

A long moment passed, both staring at each other. The elder's mouth was dry, and he searched for the words to speak. The younger man beat him to it. "If you feel for him, you should allow him the chance to vie for your heart, instead of shutting him out and not allowing him a chance to explore his feelings."

"Are you telling me that you are okay with letting your Captain seduce me?" The words are thick and cloying like honey on his tongue, the thought enticing.

The younger man gives him the smallest hint of disgusted smile. "Or the other way around, if that is what you prefer. He is driving everyone on the bridge to madness with his mopey attitude. I think that the doctor would be happy to not have to threaten sedation every ten minutes."

Spock nods, contemplating the dregs of tea leaves in the bottom of his cup. "Well, with your permission then-"

"Please," the younger man clips him, "Do not give him the idea that I have somehow influenced you into talking to him. He will never leave me alone for it."

With a small laugh, the ambassador nodded. "Of course. I know he can be quite enthusiastic when he shows his gratitude."

They both allowed each other a smile, Vulcan edicts be damned. At least between the two of them, they were on the same page. The ambassador understood everything that his younger self would go through, the trials and heartache, all while trying to remain perfectly Vulcan. Spock could only hope that Uhura would help pull the other man out of the strict rules of their people as his own _t'hy'la_ had done for him.

With a last drink from his teacup, the younger man thanked him and excused himself, leaving the elder to think for a slight moment, before he picked up his PADD, sending a private message to the Captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [TUMBLR!](http://ritsuko-chan.tumblr.com)


End file.
